


Luminous

by irisdouglasiana



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Season/Series 01, how many awkward glances can i fit in a 2000 word story, the answer is a lot apparently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-02 15:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8672998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisdouglasiana/pseuds/irisdouglasiana
Summary: It's been twenty days since Peggy had stepped off the plane into her first New York sleet storm; sixteen days since Chief Dooley made it abundantly clear that her new duties at the SSR would consist of recording meeting minutes, brewing coffee, and filing reports; and ten days since she started to wonder if she had made a terrible mistake after all.





	

It had been twenty days since Peggy had stepped off the plane into her first New York sleet storm; sixteen days since she began work at the SSR and Chief Dooley made it abundantly clear what his opinions were on the role of women in the agency; and, after ten days of recording meeting minutes, brewing coffee, and filing reports—all the while beset by snickering and innuendo and whispers of _Cap’s girl_ —she started to wonder if she had made a terrible mistake after all.

Still, if nothing else, she wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of giving up. So she put her head down, finished typing up the minutes from the latest budget meeting, and watched the clock tick down to the end of her shift on Christmas Eve. The sun had set hours ago and the office was all but deserted. She was pulling on her coat to leave when Agent Thompson, already on his way out, plopped a large stack of reports on her desk with a smirk. “Got a Christmas present for you, Carter.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” she said with false cheeriness. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that Thompson fancied himself the biggest fish in a small pond, and he felt the need to prove it by being especially obnoxious.

He grinned and gave her a mocking half-salute. “Later, kid.”

“Wanker,” Peggy muttered at his retreating back. She glared at the stack of reports and calculated how long it would take to file them all—half an hour, at least. She sighed, shrugged off her coat, and picked up the papers.

As she passed by Agent Sousa’s desk, he looked up and frowned. “I thought your shift was over?”

“Agent Thompson didn’t get the memo, apparently.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Want some help? I was heading down to the file room anyway; I’ve got some surveillance records to pull.”

She blinked. “Um. If you like. Thank you, Agent Sousa.”

He followed her to the file room, crutch tapping quietly on the floor. Peggy handed him part of the stack and started pulling out boxes. “I thought I’d be the only one working on Christmas Eve,” she said as she alphabetized the reports. “You don’t have any plans?”

“Nah.” He looked down at the report in his hands and flipped through the pages before filing it away. “I’ll go to Mass with my dad tonight once my shift is over, but that’s it. I’ve got some hours I need to make up from earlier this week.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to play hooky.”

“Oh yeah, I was sleeping in, lounging around at home, getting my Christmas shopping done.” He rubbed his eyes and gave her a tentative smile, but there was something about his expression that seemed a bit strained. “No plans for you either?”

Peggy shook her head. “My roommate went home to Connecticut for a few days, and all my family is in London.” She didn’t mention that she had called home early that morning, and the sound of her mother’s frazzled voice over the phone, talking a mile a minute about dinner preparations and gift shopping and church services—that alone had nearly been enough to drive Peggy to tears. She had never been homesick like this when she had been abroad during the war on SOE missions, but then again, there hadn’t been much time to think about the holidays with the end of the world just around the corner. And now she was relegated to serving coffee and filing reports.

“But a boring holiday isn’t such a terrible thing,” she added hastily. “Rather nice change of pace, actually, after the last several years.”

“Fair enough.” Sousa shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like boring is what you’re after, though.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”

“Well, you’re here, right? I’m guessing you didn’t come all the way from London to play secretary.”

Peggy gave him a long, measured look as she put away another file. She’d seen enough in the past two weeks to know where he stood in the pecking order, too. “And I don’t suppose you took this job because you wanted to sit behind a desk all day, Agent Sousa.”

“No,” he said slowly. “No, I didn’t.”

He was quiet after that, and they worked in companionable silence until the last of the reports were filed away. With both their shifts finished, they bundled up in layers of coats and scarves, and headed out into the cold together. Peggy pretended not to notice Rose at the switchboard winking at her slyly as she left with Sousa.

By now the snow was coming down harder than before, covering the thin layer of ice that had melted and then refrozen on the sidewalk. Agent Sousa paused and gave her a slightly pained look. “Don’t wait up for me,” he said lightly. “I’ll be taking my time.”

“I’m in no hurry.” She matched his pace as they crossed the street to reach the entrance to the subway. His crutch skid a little on an icy patch as they stepped up onto the sidewalk and she automatically reached for his elbow to grab him in case he fell—and then she missed the curb entirely and went down hard on her rear. "Oof!"

“You okay?” Sousa asked as he held out a hand to help her up.

“Fine,” she mumbled, flushing. As she grasped his hand and tried to right herself, she slipped again and this time she took him down with her. He landed on the sidewalk next to her with an unceremonious thud, crutch and all.

“Sorry!” she gasped.

But he didn’t seem upset at all. Instead, he tilted his head back and looked up. Peggy raised her head to see what he was looking at. She watched the snowflakes falling from the night sky; drifting down between the buildings to land with a cold sting on her cheeks, and she couldn’t help it. Laughter bubbled out of her, because the war was over and she was _alive_ , and the man sitting on the ground beside her, he was alive too. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes. She had seen so much death in the past several years that she had at times become numb to it; willed herself to see and to remember but not to feel, and that had allowed her to survive and taken a toll on her all the same. But here she was, all the same. 

She glanced over at Agent Sousa—at Daniel—who, she was sure, must have thought she had gone completely mad, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was still gazing up at the sky, the tips of his nose and ears turning red from the cold. There was no mistaking the smile on his face. Then, almost as if he had heard her thoughts, he turned and looked at her, and for a moment it felt like lightning had passed through her body. A jolt of recognition.

She could have sat there forever, letting the cold seep through her stockings and soak the hem of her dress. Daniel looked away first and cleared his throat. The moment ended, and suddenly she was aware of the fact that they were both still sprawled out on the icy sidewalk, with the occasional passerby stepping around them and muttering some variation of _get-off-the-damn-sidewalk-can’t-you-see-people-are-walking-here_. She hastily brushed herself off, stood up, and extended a hand to Daniel, but he shook his head.

“Not unless you want me to pull _you_ down this time,” he grinned, carefully repositioning his crutch. He grunted a bit as he pushed himself up off the ground.

She put her hands on her hips. “I beg your pardon; I did _not_ pull you down.”

He kept grinning, and it suddenly struck her that she hadn’t seen him smile like that before. It made him look years younger. She remembered how serious he had seemed when she had first met him, until she started catching on to his dry little comments and the expressions he made when Thompson and Krzeminski and the others weren’t looking.

As for herself, she hadn’t laughed like that since…well, she didn’t know how long. But it felt good. It felt like letting go of just a little bit of the weight she had been carrying; it felt like opening the door a crack and letting the sunshine creep in. And so she smiled back.

* * *

They had to rush to catch the last train, and the conductor yawned and drummed his fingers impatiently on the railing as Daniel followed Peggy into the car and took a seat across from her. Peggy shivered as she sat down on the cold seat. Her stockings were soaked and her feet were numb and all she could think of was how much she wanted a hot bath, and a cup of tea, and a log burning in a fireplace she didn’t have back at her tiny apartment. She brushed the snow from her coat and looked over to see Daniel watching her with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. He quickly lowered his eyes when she met his gaze.

As they sped through the tunnels, her thoughts drifted back to her previous Christmas at the SSR headquarters in London. They had put up some meager decorations and someone had miraculously procured a ham. And Peggy had put on a cheerful face, but all she could think about was how this was her fifth wartime Christmas, and she didn’t know how many more of these were still to come. Or how many more she could take. She had barely eaten two bites of ham before the siren wailed and they were on to the next crisis. Back then, she hadn’t permitted herself to think much about what kind of world would be left behind once the bombs stopped falling.

Yet the war had ended and the future had arrived. During those long months after the treaties had been signed and the barbed wire fences came down, a vision of a better world had wiggled its way into Peggy’s mind and germinated like a seed. And she didn’t know what it would look like when it bloomed and the petals opened up to greet the light, only that it needed her attention and constant dedication to grow: such was the duty and the joy of the living.

That had been her reason for coming to New York and staying with the SSR in the first place—the sense that the work continued even though the war was officially over. She would be there as long as there was still work to be done. And if the men in the office questioned whether she belonged, no matter; she would find her way with or without them. Nobody had ever promised this path would be easy.

But perhaps she could still find allies. She looked over at Daniel as the train slowed to a stop, and he gave her that same furtive smile as he stood up and headed to the door. “Merry Christmas,” he said, almost shyly.

“Merry Christmas to you, too.” The door slid shut behind him and the train continued on, picking up speed as it wound its way through the underground. Peggy leaned back in her seat and let it carry her all the way home. Home to her silent and dark apartment, where she changed out of her damp clothing, put the kettle on the stove, and lit a candle. She set it on the windowsill and dimmed the lamps.

Twenty days since her plane touched down on the icy runway, sixteen days since she stepped through the doors labeled New York Bell Company for the first time, ten days since she began questioning whether or not she should have come at all. But tonight she had looked up at the snowflakes drifting down from the sky and laughed. Tonight, she watched the flame flickering on the sill; she imagined people all over New York lighting candles of their own until the whole city glowed: each light by itself a delicate and temporary thing, but together, luminous enough to chase away the shadows on the longest night of the year.

She sipped her tea as the wax dripped down the side of the candle and pooled at the bottom of the dish, and when it had nearly melted all the way down, she gently blew it out. The flame wavered for a moment and vanished. But she trusted the light to be her guide; she kept it within her, close to her heart—and it grew, and it grew.

**Author's Note:**

> This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine/Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine...


End file.
